


From the Start

by littlethingsmeanalot



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Pupcake - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-05-13 04:53:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 5,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5695531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlethingsmeanalot/pseuds/littlethingsmeanalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following Patsy Mount and Delia Busby as they get to know each other and subsequently fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Patsy:

It had been a long and stressful week, there had been a sudden increase in patients and therefore an increase in the demand for nurses, which was already frightfully high. I had been on my feet for almost all of my waking hours, checking on patients, reapplying bandages and even helping with some of the more major surgeries (which I could not describe as anything less than thrilling). Everything was so rushed and frantic that I almost didn't notice the arrival of the new nurse. Almost. 

Nurse Busby had moved into the room opposite mine on the Tuesday, however we did not meet until three days later, if you could even call it meeting. 

I had just finished up in the dining hall and, despite eating my meal at a truly alarming speed, was already late. In my haste I forgot to check for passers by, however it still came as a surprise when, as I walked into the corridor outside the dining hall, my body collided with another. I didn't see her face at first, all I noticed was a basket of bandages go flying and a small squeak made by my assailant. My instincts kicked in before my curiosity, and before I knew it I was on my knees, hurriedly putting all of the (thankfully clean) bandages back in the basket. 

It was not until I heard the words “Thank you, I can take it from here” that I decided to stop. I looked up to see the owner of the rather endearing welsh accent and I fear my jaw dropped. Kneeling on the floor in front of me was a rather frazzled looking nurse with the most beautiful blue eyes. My voice suddenly left me, I was stuck sitting there with my mouth agape but no words coming out. 

I would have been sat there like a fool for a lot longer had she not looked down at her watch, reminding me that I must now be frightfully late. I cannot recall how, as I was not fully in control of myself, but the next thing I knew I was walking away from the mystery nurse, without so much as a 'hello'.


	2. Chapter 2

Delia:

The London was everything I expected it to be, and everything I didn't. There were unimaginable amounts of patients, doctors who turned their noses up when you dared to speak, doctors who paid a little too much attention when you passed by. There were friendly nurses, gossipy nurses, shy nurses and ones who were outright rude. Luckily Nurse Rosie Patricks, the girl who showed me around on my first day, was one of the friendly variety. 

Rosie was far from the nurses I had trained with, unlike the girls that cared more about the state of their hair than the wellbeing of their patients Nurse Patricks seemed to have a deep commitment to her cases (and was far nicer to me). 

She had said when we first met “you stick with me, I'll help you settle in in no time”. It was her I went to whenever I was stuck or needed help, she seemed to know who everyone was and how to get in their good books. Everyone other than the blonde.

Rosie told me as we were having a tea break in her room that her name is Nurse Mount.

“how formal! Doesn't she go by her first name like the other nurses?” Rosie seemed to be surprised that I asked about her.

“If you want to spare yourself a telling off I'd suggest you stick with Nurse Mount, she only seems to be on a first name basis with her close friends”. Before I could ask any more Rosie was jumping out of her seat, announcing that we must get back for our next shift.

I didn't see her (Nurse Mount that is) again that day, for that I was not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. She didn't sound like the type of person I would want to be friends with, well, as far as Rosie’s description goes ('Rather set in her ways' and 'too posh for her own good'). However I couldn't get rid of the feeling that she was different, that she was something more than what everyone saw.


	3. Chapter 3

Patsy:

I saw the blue eyed girl everywhere I went, in the halls of the nurses home, in wards I passed to get to 'male surgical', in the dining hall, she seemed to be everywhere (although that may be because I might have been looking for her). I still hadn't spoken to her or looked her in the eyes since the bandage basket incident. 

I thought: 'I really should introduce myself, or ask her name, but whatever am I to say? “Hello, I'm Patience Mount, yes that's right, the woman who knocked you over and then rudely stormed off without even asking if you were okay”? “Hi, what's your name? Why do I ask? Only because I've been staring at you from across the room during dinner for the past week”?'

I had resigned to never say anything to her, that was until I heard her exclaim as I stepped out of my room on Saturday evening. 

“Oh for goodness sake!” she sounded quite agitated.

I was half way through locking my door when I heard a door opening and closing rather harshly behind me. Turning, I found the slight girl staring at me in shock, furry evident on her face.

She looked at me with pleading eyes as she said “I don't suppose you have a bucket handy?”.

She must have noticed my confusion as she then turned and opened the door to her room, which seemed to have a fountain-like stream of water cascading from the roof.

“There are about five in the maintenance closet down the hall”

She turned and it struck me then the this was the first thing I had ever said to her, 'she must now think I'm both antisocial and a clean freak, great!'

There was a pause. I felt even more uncomfortable as her eyes took me in, they moved up and down my body as if she were inspecting me, looking for flaws.

“Why don't I grab one for you?” I stared at the ground self-consciously, willing her to say something.

She seemed to snap out of her thoughts, a warm smile taking over her face “That would be lovely”.

With that I rushed off towards the end of the hallway, trying to stop the blush from covering my cheeks.


	4. Chapter 4

Delia:

After we had cleaned up the mess and notified someone that there was a burst pipe or something of the sort above my room, the two of us found ourselves outside the nurses home, not knowing what to say. We stood there, just staring at each other, till I plucked up the courage to introduce myself.

“My name's Delia by the way, Delia Busby” I extended my hand almost awkwardly. 

The tall blonde hesitated for a second before taking it in hers. Her hand was so warm, fingers so gentle, I almost didn't want to pull myself away.

With her hand back, she tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. She looked at the ground (nervously?) as she said “I'm Patience Mount”.

“I know” It left my mouth before I could help it “I mean … yes … the other nurses told me about you”. 

“Oh?” she lifted an eyebrow.

I could feel my face going completely red, how could I save myself now?

“Nothing bad I assume?”

Almost too quickly I said “No! Of course not”.

She gave me a smile that extended to her eyes, making them crinkle slightly at the edges, I had never seen her smile before that, but at that moment I wanted her to never stop.

She seemed to think for a moment, then she looked at her watch and thought again. “I don't suppose you're up to going to the pictures? It looks like my friend's not coming”.

I know I shouldn't have said yes, I was meant to be buying a gift for my Mam and Dad, but I couldn't resist when she gave me another one-hundred-watt smile.


	5. Chapter 5

Patsy:

It was almost scary how easy it was to talk to her. After the film ended I was expecting us to have a short, awkward conversation before parting ways (I don't exactly excel when it comes to talking to strangers), I never expected her to turn to me with her eyes shining and exclaim “that plot was complete rubbish!”. 

We proceeded to spend the next hour wondering around town, conversing excitedly about every fault in the films plot, costumes, and acting. By the time we reached my favourite coffee shop we had ventured onto new topics, mainly light gossip about employees at The London. 

As we sat and waited to be served I leant across the table to whisper conspiratorially, “If my sources are correct there may be a workplace romance going on between Mr Lockwood and Nurse Plum”

Delia's face lit up “Oh really? How scandalous!”

I leant back in my seat and smiled, happy with her response.

“Although I never have understood why people start romances with colleagues”. 

At her words I felt an odd pain in my chest “why is that?”.

“Wouldn't it be awfully tiresome to spend all you're time with one person, and if it doesn't work out you would still see them every day,” a crease had appeared between her eyebrows, that I fear I could not look away from “although I wouldn't know, I've never really had a serious relationship”.

That took me by surprise, I was half way to telling her that she is far too pretty and kind and funny to be single but the waiter arrived to take our orders. I couldn't help thinking to myself 'pull it together Patsy, you've known her for less than a day'. It seemed so odd that we hardly know each other yet we can talk and joke like old friends.

“Pats?” the unfamiliar nickname surprised me, yet made me smile all the same.

“What? Sorry, my thoughts ran away from me for a moment”. I looked up to see her bright blue eyes looking at me kindly.

“What would you like to order?” the corner of her mouth twitched into the most enticing smile.

“Oh, yes. I'll have what she's having” I said as I turned to the waiter, quickly glancing back to look at Delia who wore an almost wicked grin.


	6. Chapter 6

Delia:

The afternoon with Patsy had been wonderful, too wonderful. We talked for hours about everything from work to friends to experiences with cranky Londoners. It was all so easy, far easier than trying to talk with a man. I can't help but think that if there were a man like Patsy I'm sure I'd have to snatch him up before someone else did. She was just so full of energy, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she was passionate about, how she had teased me good naturedly. We ended up arriving at the nurses home just before curfew, and spent a few short moments outside our rooms just looking at each other and smiling before she said “well, today has been lovely”. The shy way that she said it made me laugh. 

“Oh, stop it you!” she exclaimed with an open-mouthed grin.

“Well, I guess I should say good night” I said softly.

“I guess you should” her reply was quiet and I could feel her breath as she spoke. It suddenly dawned on me how close we were standing, she was so close I could smell her, a mix of sweet lavender perfume, bleach and something else, distinctively her.

“And are you going to wish me a good night or will I have to go to sleep goodnight-less?” I was very aware of our proximity, but I could not bring myself to pull away.

“That would be rather tragic, wouldn't it?” she was grinning, I realised then that so was I.  
After a moment she gave in “Good night”. Her voice was low and smooth and made the hairs on my arms stand on end. 

We parted all too quickly it seemed, although I know we must have been stood there for a good ten minutes.


	7. Chapter 7

Patsy:

“Sally says she spotted you at the cinema” one of the nosier nurses said the following Monday.

“Did she now?” I tried to shrug the comment off, I had had a particularly bad morning (one of the patients had vomited on my uniform) and my mood wasn't getting any better.

“And …?” the nurse said, leaning over a tray of medicine. I turned and gave her my most stern 'Nurse Mount' look, hoping she would understand that I wasn't in the mood.

“Come on Patsy! You know we're all dying to know if you have a chap”.

“I went with a friend” and before she could say anything else I added “a female friend”.

She seemed to deflate with disappointment “you will tell us, won't you? When you start seeing someone”. Before I could answer she exclaimed under her breath “Oh! There's that new surgeon, isn't he just the most dashing man you've seen?”

I turned to see a tallish man (I forget his name) walk into the room and send us a smile before carrying on with his work.

“Hey! He would be perfect for you! I hear he's single”

I tried to think of an excuse, anything to lead the conversation away from where I knew it was heading “But wouldn't it be … uh … odd, with us both … having blonde hair? I mean, we'd look like brother and sister”.

“You could always stop dying your hair” I was about to say another lame excuse when she said what I had dreaded “Why don't we go out dancing? I'll invite everyone, only nurses and doctors of course. Oh, how fun it will be! And you would get to dance with Jonathan!”.  
Before I could protest she frolicked away, off to check on a patient.


	8. Chapter 8

Delia:

The week following the trip to the cinema passed too quickly, yet seemed to drag along. My days were filled with the usual hospital goings on, patients and family members in distress, doctors and matrons snapping at any sign of disobedience or improper behaviour, nurses gossiping about absolutely anything. However they were also filled with glances, smiles and quick friendly words shared with a certain blonde nurse. At first I passed the sweatiness of my palms and the increased pounding of my heart off, during these encounters, as the result of working in a stressful hospital, but by the Thursday night I had begun to recognise the true reason for my reactions. 

I lay in my bed thinking over all of the times I had so much as glanced at Patsy in the last few days, something that, admittedly, I had done quite often. I couldn't help but dwell on the times when I had been unable to look away as her figure retreated down a hall, hips swaying like a model, or the many times I had looked up, during a conversation, in a vain attempt to spot her. It surprised me to what clarity I could remember these small but numerous events when I could hardly recall what was served for lunch the previous day. Just thinking of her then, of her kind blue eyes, her enticing voice, her smile that seemed to brighten up even the darkest of moments, made my chest ache. 

I attempted to distract myself with a book, but as my eyes skimmed passed the words, not taking a single one in, I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to hold her hand, to feel her fingertips move up my arms and over my face, to have my body pressed tightly against hers. 'This isn't proper Delia' I thought to myself 'surely you're not meant to feel this way about her'. Despite my inner voices protests I couldn't stop thinking of the perfect angle of her jaw bone, the colour and shape of her lips. It was not long before I passed off into a disappointingly Patsy-less sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Patsy:

We could have been talking about anything, we could have been talking about the infant who had been left in a garbage can for days, we could have been talking about the girl who literally broke a leg while making her début performance at a local jazz club, we could have been talking about the engagement between one of the nurses and her beau. Any topic would have been more interesting than talking about Jonathan whats-his-name and the upcoming dance trip. I spent the beginning of lunch zoning in and out of the conversation, occasionally giving short responses to questions.

“Come on Patsy! Liven up, surely you can't be that nervous to be around Jonathan” the nurses comment resulted in a chorus of giggles from the other nurses. To be perfectly honest, I found him to be completely bland, too similar to the other young doctors at The London, same short hairstyle, same clothes and cologne, there was nothing that stood out about him at all.

“So Blake, Jonathan and Rob have all said they will come but we still need to convince …” I couldn't help but zone out of the conversation, talking about boys has never been my cup of tea. 

Pushing the mashed potato around on my plate, my eyes wandered up to see dark shiny hair and clear blue eyes. When Delia looked up from her seat across the room our eyes instantly connected, like two magnets drawn together by an unseeable force. My lips instantly curved into a grin as I held her gaze but, unlike every other time, she looked quickly away, not even sending me a small smile. I continued to look at her in the hopes that she'd look up again but her gaze was trained solely on her empty plate. I was contemplating going over to her and asking what the matter was but, just as the thought crossed my mind, Delia stood abruptly and had left the room in a matter of seconds. 'How queer!' I thought to myself, 'had I done something? Had I said something to offend her?'.

“Oh, Patsy! Are you looking at who I think you're looking at?” with that remark, my attention was quickly drawn back to my group of friends. 

“Hm?” I tried to sound indifferent, however I fear my face was going quite red.

“You do fancy him don't you!” whispered the nurse beside me as my brows creased together in confusion. I looked back up to see that, behind where Delia had been seated, sat Jonathan whats-his-name. 

I looked down at my plate in embarrassment at being caught staring, despite it being at a different person. The girls around me seemed to find this immensely entertaining and continued talking about him for the rest of lunch.


	10. Chapter 10

Delia:

I hadn't been able to even look at Patsy without being reminded of my thoughts the previous night. All day Friday I had made sure to stay away from her, keeping myself safe from the internal embarrassment that being around her would bring. I had done a surprisingly good job of it by volunteering to sterilize equipment and do jobs that would keep me away from male surgical, however I couldn't avoid seeing her in the dining hall and in the corridors of the nurses home that night.

During lunch I had been 'listening' to Rosie and her friend go on about some party-thing while attempting not to look at the blonde beauty across the hall (unsuccessfully). When I saw Patsy looking at me with her big blue eyes I felt my insides turn to mush. I hated myself and the thoughts that bounced round my head as a smile boarded her face, I had to make myself look away, I had to do anything other than think about how I longed to see her smile every second of the day. How I longed to see her smile as I touched her, as I kissed her. Looking away didn't help, everything was too loud, there were too many people, I felt like I was being suffocated. I needed to leave, to go before someone noticed, before someone realized that the sick thoughts rushing through my head were because of her. I left in a rush, unable to take the noise any longer, and ran straight towards the nearest rest-room, where I spent ten minutes trying to cool my flushed face.

I saw her again later that night and was drawn into a conversation. 

“Delia!” I heard her unmistakeable voice behind me. “How are you? You seemed a little out of sorts at lunch” I turned to find her standing behind me with a hesitant smile on her face.

“I'm fine. thank you” I returned with a stiff smile. What I had meant to say was 'sorry, I can't talk, I'm late for a meeting' but it refused to come out.

“I'm glad” her voice was so kind, so genuine, her smile so inviting. How could I stay away from her? How could I think it wrong to want to lean in and kiss her, to stroke her soft hair, when she was so considerate? It definitely didn't feel wrong, it felt like the rightest thing in the world.

“Would you like to join me for a nightcap?” I could hear the uncertainty in her voice, like there was even a chance I would decline such an alluring offer.

“After the day I've had I would be insane not to,” I said with a smile “although you better prepare yourself for some serious complaining”.

“You're on! I bet I could out-complain you any day”


	11. Chapter 11

Patsy:

The door clicked closed and then all too quickly we were alone, in my room, with the door firmly shut. I was suddenly extremely nervous, we had been alone before of course, but in my room, in the silence and darkness of the night, it seemed more … intimate. 

“I'm afraid I only have bourbon” I turned away from Delia, too nervous to look at her.

“Perfect” she said, her Welsh accent nearly making my knees weak. 

As I poured the bourbon, I could see her move slowly towards my bed and make herself comfortable, leaning her head and shoulder against the wall that my bed was pushed up against. Passing Delia her drink, I sat across from her, my legs crossed and back against the adjacent wall. There was a comfortable silence as we sat (with her silences never seem to be anything but).

“How was your day?” my voice came out almost as a whisper and far smoother than I was expecting. She turned her head so we were looking at each other.

“It had its ups and downs,” she smiled “one of the men in my ward seems to fancy himself quite the charmer”

“Oh?” my hand tightened it's grasp on the glass.

“He's always complimenting me, telling me that when he gets out he'll insist on taking me to dinner” my jaw tightened tremendously.

“And will you? Go with him that is” I had to look away from her so she would not see the fire in my eyes.

“Oh, of course not” she said with a laugh. At my raised eyebrows she clarified “He's seventy six Pats”.

Relief rushed into me, my whole body seemed to relax.

“And I'm sure his forty seven year old daughter wouldn't approve” she said. At that we both burst out in laughter, somehow shifting closer in the process. We continued laughing until my neighbour banged on the wall, reminding us of the time of night. We settled down and simply smiled at each other, making faces that resulted in another (quieter) burst of laughter. 

We continued talking after that, our voices lower so as not to disturb the sleeping nurses, and bodies getting closer for the sake of hearing the other better (no other reason at all).


	12. Chapter 12

Delia:

I woke the next morning with a smile on my face that refused to leave. I cocooned myself in my blankets, creating a barrier against the chill of the morning as I thought about the previous night. We had done nothing other than talk, telling each other stories about patients and doctors, and talking about films (realising our mutual love of Audrey Hepburn). We spent the majority of the night laughing, teasing each other and making far too much eye contact. It was difficult though, to look away. Her eyes were just so blue and joyful, like no one else I've ever seen. And she seemed to like my company, she did invite me into her room, 'that's a good sign, right? It means she wants to be friends, doesn't it?'. The idea of being friends with Patsy Mount was thrilling. I had other friends of course, at The London and back in Wales, but none of them where as special as Patsy. None of them meant as much as I knew Patsy would mean to me. 

When I had left to return to my room, some time after midnight, I felt a strong hand grasp on to my arm. I turned, feeling a pleasant tingling where our skin touched. I was thankful then for the poor lighting as, due to the proximity of our faces, I felt a blush settle upon my cheeks.

“Have coffee with me tomorrow?” she questioned in a whisper that made it nearly impossible to hold myself back, to not ruin everything by kissing her.

“Do I have a choice?” I replied with a cheeky grin.

She seemed to think for a moment before saying “Nope” and closing her door with a smile.

It struck me suddenly, as I lay in bed, that she didn't give me any details about this date (platonic friends can have dates!). I sat up in bed and contemplated whether it was too early to cross the hall and ask when a white slip of paper caught my attention. I slowly pulled myself away from the warmth of my bed and walked lazily over to the door. A smile took over my face as I picked up the note containing a time, address and multiple smiley faces.


	13. Chapter 13

Patsy:

 

I rubbed my hands together anxiously, 'What if she didn't find the note? What if she changed her mind? Was I too forward? What if she hadn't wanted to come in the first place?' My mind buzzed with a flurry of thoughts as I watched the menacing clock signal the passing of yet another minute. I was seated in a plush booth near the back of a surprisingly warm café (considering it was all but snowing outside), waiting for Delia to show up, hopefully with an excuse for her extreme tardiness.

I realised after I glanced up at the door (for what must have been the tenth time this minute) that I was being terribly silly. I internally chastised myself for acting like a hormonal teenager, knowing all too well that my anxiety was for nothing, knowing that falling for charming girls like Delia only resulted in heartbreak. But was I falling for her? It certainly felt like it. It felt like everything, being with her. It felt like eating ice-cream in the middle of summer, like standing on the edge of a cliff, like letting the sea engulf you and whisk all of your worries away. It felt like everything good and pure (and some things that weren't), which was terrifying. Because how was I meant to keep all of this inside, when all I wanted to do was tell people (anyone who'd listen really) how amazing she was, how just her smile could brighten up my entire day? How was I meant to act normal around her, to refrain from telling her just how wonderful she is? If this was-

“Pats?” her lilting voice cut though my thoughts and sent my heart aflutter.

“Deels!” the nickname seemed to pass my lips on it's own accord, leaving the woman who was now sitting across from me visibly surprised (she wasn't the only one, I'm most definitely not one for nicknames!). Delia recovered quickly however and proceeded to peel an array of damp clothing off of her body.

“I'm terribly sorry Pats, just as I was leaving Matron pulled me over and gave me an impromptu lecture on sheet folding of all things!”

I didn't respond. I couldn't. Having her sit in front of me, with her whole body seeming to radiate warmth and cheerfulness and comfort, it sent me into a deliciously numb state, as if my emotions were so abundant they took away my ability to do anything but stare. It made my mind race, not as it had before, but in a way that my rational thoughts couldn't taint. My thoughts were wordless, for I fear there were no words that could come close to describing her brilliance, or how she made me feel, how being around her made me want things. Her kind eyes made me want to tell her everything, all of the undisclosed stories of my childhood that still haunt me in my dreams, all of my secret wishes and hopes. Her melodious voice made me want to hear anything and everything she had to say. Her joyful lips, the dimples in her cheeks, the way little drops of water clung to her delightfully messy hair, it all made me want … something. Something impossible and forbidden and completely enchanting. It made me want her! 

I didn't realise quite how long I had been staring at her hair until she blushed and started to pat her locks nervously. Delia lowered her head and spoke softly, “I must look a fright!”

I suddenly felt a stab of regret, for making her more uneasy than I'd ever seen her, and for my fear of scaring her off that stops me from giving her the reassurance she deserves.

I reached out and took her hand that was resting on the table, “Don't be silly! you look lovely.” My words made her lift her eyes to mine and for a moment I thought I saw something unfamiliar enter them, something like adoration (or I suppose, that's what I hoped to have seen).

The moment seemed to stretch for an age, although it must have been only a few seconds, before we were approached by a stranger, who unceremoniously drew our attention away from the breathless exchange.

“Hello,” the man's low voice almost made me jump out of my seat. He was wearing a smart green jacket (that looked suspiciously similar to one of my favourites) and was giving me a smile that might be expected of an old acquaintance. “Ah, yes, it is you. I spotted you from across the café but wasn't quite sure.”

My eyes narrowed as I tried to wrack my brain for an identity to go along with this blonde stranger. I quickly looked at Delia who seemed almost as confused as me when it clicked.

“Jonathan is it?” he gave a quick nod, followed by an inquisitive glance at Delia. It took a long moment for my still rather confused brain to realise that he was waiting for an introduction.

“Oh, um...” my thoughts spun in a frantic loop of 'is it too soon to call her my friend?' and 'how am I meant to make her out to be an average person when she's so much more?'.

“Delia Busby” she said, her voice sounding rather strained. 

“Jonathan Taylor” he replied while smoothly seating himself on the bench next to me, “So, I hope you're ready for tomorrow,” he turned to me, completely ignoring Delia's presence, “I'll be waiting for you at six, and do wear something nice, the lads have got it in their heads that my date will make a fool of me. But anything on that body of yours will do, as long as it's short”

I was completely dumbfounded, so much so that as he stood and left with a wink I couldn't utter a single word.

I looked over at Delia and noticed her staring after Jonathan as he casually swaggered back to his friends.

My mind was racing, 'why on earth had he said that, I'd not so much as ever smiled at him let alone done anything to suggest that I'd be his date for the dance'. I looked up again to see Delia looking at me questioningly, 'what am I to say, I can't plead that it was a misunderstanding, I wouldn't have any reason to other than to tell her I'm very much single, and very much wanting for her to change that. No, I can't do anything to make her suspicious of my feelings'

“Um, well, I think I might order something” I said in a squeaky voice, hoping that she would forget about what just occurred.


End file.
